


Customer Service

by Piinutbutter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clothing Porn, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:58:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: “Trust me,” his companion had said, clapping him on the back. “No one goes into that man’s shop and comes out unsatisfied.”





	Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MildredMost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildredMost/gifts).



“A trip to the tailor on the hill would do you good.”

Marian stared at the unassuming store front, trying not to let skepticism get the better of him. His companions always hounded him for his dour habit of looking at the world through a pessimistic lens. In fact, this visit was recommended to him specifically as a cure for his melancholy temperament. He had little need of new clothes, not when his existing wardrobe was plentiful enough for three men.

“Trust me, my friend,” his companion had said, clapping him on the back. “No one goes into that man’s shop and comes out unsatisfied.”

Pushing the shop’s door open set off a symphony of chiming bells. Marian hesitated just inside the doorway, taking in the sight of a sales floor cluttered with dress forms and half-assembled mannequins. Every available surface was draped in fabrics, ranging from gauzy silk to stiff leather. Very little of the fabric was actually in the form of a coherent item of clothing.

He saw no one else in the room, though someone could very well be hiding beneath any number of improvised fabric curtains. A back door that Marian hadn’t even noticed was pushed open, and out stepped a man who Marian assumed was the tailor himself.

“Apologies for the racket,” the man said, gesturing to the excessive collection of bells above the door. “I’m a bit hard of hearing. Getting old, you see.”

Marian didn’t see, actually. The man looked to be in the prime of his life to him. His dark hair was neatly curled and styled, and a healthy blush sat on his cheeks.

“Now, what can I help you with today, mister...?” He walked over and reached out a hand, which Marian shook with a practiced level of firmness. Good first impressions were important.

“Marian.”

“Marian.” The tailor smiled. “Lovely name, that. And what have you come to me for?”

It didn’t escape Marian that the man wasn’t giving his name in return. There was no name on the sign outside the building, either. How impolite.

“To tell you the truth,” Marian began, watching as the tailor examined him from head to foot, “I have no real need of any new clothes in particular. But I was told your skills would make any item you create worth my time. I hope I wasn’t misled.”

The tailor’s smile didn’t falter. “Allow me to give you more confidence in my work, then. Remain here; I know just what to make for a man like you.”

Marian wanted to ask what was meant by that, but he blinked and the tailor had disappeared into the back room. A small bell atop the half-hidden door jingled as it closed behind him.

Left to his own devices, Marian took to examining the few finished clothes set up on racks and mannequins around the room. There was a lavish purple jacket adorned with brassy buttons and braided through with bright golden thread, but Marian wasn’t quite showy enough for something like that. There was a set of corsets made for both the female and male body, all held together with an intricate web of laces, but Marian had never been able to stomach the harsh bite of the things. Marian was reaching a hand out, intending to run a plain silk scarf between his fingers, when the tailor returned.

“Ah, I see you’re a man of taste. The scarves always have been a favorite of mine.” Swaths of fabric were draped over his arm, and he waved Marian into a corner of the room, where a curtain marked off a small changing area. Pushing back the curtain, Marian was greeted with a plush loveseat, a fitting platform, and a large mirror. The tailor set his cloth aside.

“If you’ll just stand here for a moment, I’ll take your measurements.”

As Marian moved in front of the mirror, the tailor rolled his sleeves up. A wine-red ribbon was tied around his wrist. He tugged at one end with his teeth and the knot came undone effortlessly. He used the ribbon to tie his hair back, then gave Marian a smile. “Let’s get started, shall we? I do so hate to waste a customer’s time.”

Despite saying that, the tailor took his sweet time wrapping his tape measure every which way around Marian’s body, scolding him in a soft voice when he squirmed too much for the tailor’s liking. His hands lingered perhaps a moment too long on Marian’s waist and thighs, long artisan’s fingers brushing against Marian’s body in touches that were just soft enough that Marian couldn’t be absolutely sure they were deliberate.

The tailor stepped aside for a moment, and Marian assumed he was simply writing down more measurements, but then the man grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, presenting him with a selection of clothing draped over the back of the loveseat. “There you have it! Just for you.”

Marian narrowed his eyes. “Am I to believe that you are skilled enough to conjure a complete outfit in the blink of an eye?”

The tailor laughed, patting his back. “Not at all. It’s merely that I have a good eye. The clothes I brought out to sample on you based on my estimation of your measurements fit quite perfectly to your true shape.”

Marian could have sworn that the clothing on the loveseat didn’t match the look of the fabric the tailor had been carrying, but - perhaps he was simply letting his skepticism get the better of him again.

“This is good-looking work, I’ll grant you,” Marian admitted, picking up a spotless white collared shirt. Beside it lay a vest in rich burgundy, accented with understated silver buttons, and a set of silky black trousers.

“I thought you might enjoy these, as well,” the tailor spoke from his side, offering out a set of modest golden cufflinks in his hand.

“Gold and silver in the same outfit?” Marian said, taking them. “How daring.”

The tailor stepped out after encouraging him to try everything on. “I can make a coat for you as well, if you’d like to complete the look after seeing it all together.”

Marian stripped down to his undershirt and undergarments, donning the new clothes with the same businesslike approach he took to most things in life. Examining himself in the mirror, he reluctantly had to admit that the clothes fit him miraculously well. Perhaps a little tighter around his lower body than he normally would have chosen, but...

The curtain was pushed aside, and the tailor examined Marian with obvious satisfaction. “Excellent. Almost perfect, really. Not quite there yet. I whipped up a few more pieces to accent your best points, if you’ll allow me?”

Marian didn’t really have time to say yes or no before the tailor was wrapping something around his waist. He twirled Marian around again to face the mirror - really, he was going to get whiplash at this rate - and draped something else over his neck.

“You can’t be so conservative all the time,” the tailor murmured into Marian’s ear, tightening a white ribbon around Marian’s neck. The front of the ribbon was tied into a loose, fluffy bow, and around his waist was some sort of sash, which the tailor also tightened until it was snug against his hips.

“Really,” Marian protested. “This is a bit excessive.”

“Is it?” The tailor met his gaze in the mirror, adjusting the bow so it neatly framed Marian’s tight collar. “I’m going to make tea. Wait here a moment. Take a few minutes to get acquainted with the clothing. I find that it helps to really bond with a new outfit before one takes it home.”

The curtain was open and closed again before Marian could protest.

Marian sighed, looking himself over once more before sitting down on the loveseat. It was a fine outfit, truly, but the sash seemed an unnecessary addition, and the ribbon was just a bit too tight against his throat. To the point of annoyance, actually. Marian reached up and tugged at his collar, trying to adjust the thing.

Now that he thought about it, perhaps the material was a bit too thick. The shop had held a sort of pleasant chill when Marian had first stepped in, but now everything seemed too warm. The form-fitting cloth couldn’t have been helping matters.

Marian stood, intending to find something to cool himself off, but as he tried to climb to his feet, his whole body was hit with a wave of dizziness and heat. He collapsed onto the loveseat like a maiden whose corset was laced too tightly, and as the dizziness washed away, it was replaced with even more heat. Marian clawed at the fabric of the vest, trying to pry it loose, and-

- _oh_.

When the tailor returned, promised tea tray in hand, he was greeted with the sight of Marian flushed, panting, and fighting against the instinct to straddle the arm of the loveseat and rut himself against it like a dog in heat.

“Oh my.” The tailor set the tea aside. His smile didn’t hold an inkling of surprise. “I see you’ve bonded well.”

“What in god’s name is going on?” Marian demanded. He almost demanded to know _What in god’s name did you do to me,_ but despite his deep conviction that this was entirely the tailor’s fault, he had no real evidence of the man’s guilt, did he? This could be a strange, violent illness seizing him.

“Bonding, as I’ve told you.” The tailor stepped over to him, running appreciative eyes over Marian’s form. They were followed by appreciative hands, and Marian outright gasped when the tailor’s fingertips gently brushed against his hip.

“Oh my. You must be sensitive; the connection is remarkably strong already.”

Marian didn’t know what that meant, but his will to care was scattered when the tailor grabbed his wrists and ankles, arranging his limbs until he was lying comfortably on the loveseat. Despite his confusion and irritation, Marian couldn’t locate the urge or will to fight back underneath the roiling heat in his stomach.

The tailor crawled onto the end of the loveseat, straddling Marian’s waist. “Now, this will feel strange to you, but there’s no need to worry.”

Marian choked on any potential rebuttals when the tailor looped his slim fingers through the bow around Marian’s neck and tugged on it. As the silk unraveled, so did Marian. It felt like the tailor had reached inside him and found the thread that laced his senses together, and pleasure pulsed through him as it was pulled.

It was almost a loss when the bow was removed entirely. Marian reached for it without thinking. The tailor held it just out of his grasp with a gentle smile.

“Shhh.” He set the bow aside and cupped Marian’s cheek. “I know you’re eager. But I underestimated how well you would respond, and gave you a little too much. I won’t take anything else away until we’re done, alright?”

Marian found himself nodding, though he didn’t understand what he was consenting to.

“Very good.” The tailor’s hand moved down Marian’s body, leaving tingling warmth in its wake, until it settled on his waist. His fingers reached beneath the fabric of Marian's sash, and it was the most intimate sensation Marian had felt in his life. He could swear the tailor's eyes flashed with something dark and unworldly for a moment, but perhaps the heat was merely corrupting another of his senses.

“We are going to have so much fun, you and I.”


End file.
